


Have You Seen What's on the News?

by HallsofStone2941



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Bisexual!Dis, Dori and Balin are flirts, I just had some ideas, I really don't know where I'm going with this yet, Lesbian!Dwalin, Modern AU, Multi, Office AU, Thorin is an idiot when it comes to romance, balin & dwalin aren't blood related to thorin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-02-25 14:22:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2625002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HallsofStone2941/pseuds/HallsofStone2941
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin Durin's newspaper, The Oak Press, proudly tackles fearmongering and sexualization by writing the truth. It is a task that began with a few loyal followers, and has since grown to include anyone trying to get an honest opinion. Bilbo Baggins has managed to earn a high-ranking place in this complex network as the new social issues editor - and just in time, too, as Oak Press, Inc. is about to face its biggest challenge yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I should probably write a few more chapters and a basic plot for this story before I actually post it, but the draft is going to be deleted in a few days and I don't want to lose this idea in case I actually get an "a-ha" moment some time in the future.
> 
> So here's the first chapter, and I may try to formulate a little more over the next few weeks. But honestly, I don't know if I'll be able to get this story off the ground.
> 
> Title subject to change, summary subject to change, rating subject to change, tags to be added as I actually make plans for this damn fic.

The city of Rovhan looks like a shaken snow globe. Flecks of cold whiteness persistently fall, dodging towering buildings and swirling gently through the streets before melting beneath the ever-bustling footsteps of the city's constituents. Other flaks are swept between the wheels of buses, taxies, and the few cars driven by souls brave enough to face the January weather.

The scene is peaceful, contenting, and would normally provide Thorin with a sense of calm - were it not for the bitingly frigid wind that accompanies the snowfall, waving Thorin's hair around his head and forcing him to nuzzle deeper into his turned-up coat collar. One of his hands, clasped around his briefcase, is completely frozen, as is the back of the other, which clutches a steaming cup of coffee. He hurries towards his destination, contemplating the benefits of a remote-controlled transport device.

Finally, _finally_ , he rounds the corner of Running and Raven, and there, standing sleek and proud, is Erebor Tower: a monument to Thorin's hard work, and the crowning glory of The Oak Press. It stands as a symbol of triumph over a distant, blurry nightmare (and, if Thorin is honest, a blatant display of Oak Press' main sponsor's wealth). Thorin feels warmth blossom in his chest, that familiar pride and satisfaction that always appears whenever he nears Erebor's glass doors. Feeling another bitterly cold gust of wind, he quickly crosses the street and escapes into the warmth of the place that feels like his second home.

Dori is at the front desk, and already engrossed in her work. The elderly secretary's head tilts up slightly as she looks to see the newcomer; her simple, rectangular glasses reflect the screen in front of her and give her normally grey eyes a silvery sheen that matches her hair. She smiles lightly and offers the head of the company a greeting of, "good morning, Mr. Durin".

Thorin, despite his usual, grim demeanor, returns her smile with a small one of his own. "Always so formal, Mrs. Armstrong. A good morning to you, too. Is anyone else here yet?"

Dori shakes her head, earrings tinkling gently with the movement. The clean white lobby is empty, and no noise comes from the half-level above them. Of course, it is still early, and rarely does anyone come into work before the two of them.

The door hisses, and Balin walks in, wearing thick, black leather gloves, an equally thick wool overcoat, and a silver-flecked, deep red scarf that is bunched up to his somewhat large ears and nose. Accompanying him is a brisk gush of winter air, dry and bitter enough to make Thorin hunch his shoulders and shake his long hair out to cover his ears in an attempt to stay warm. Dori ducks slightly behind her desk, her long-sleeved, green cotton shirt not doing nearly enough to protect her from the cold.

"Morning, lad, Dori," Balin says, giving Dori a wink as he comes up to the desk and removes his gloves before placing them in one of his pockets.

"Good morning, Balin, dear," Dori replies, purposely not looking at Balin as the corner of her mouth curls upward.

Thorin rolls his eyes at their flirting, which is, at this point, habitual rather than serious. "Good morning, old man," he shoots back at Balin, ignoring Dori's cut-off snort. "Dori, could you tell me what we have planned for the day?"

"You have a phone conference with the Eriador faction at eleven, and a meeting scheduled with Mr. Grey at three. Oh, and the new social issues editor starts today."

Thorin grunts. "Are they good?"

"Top notch," Balin answers him. "Straight out of college with a journalist's degree, excellent writing skills, and an eagerness to take on the world."

 _Fresh blood_ , Thorin thinks, remembering the words Balin had spoken to him recently after their last editor had left. _We need someone who is living it_ now _, Thorin. Not a crotchety old man better suited to the obits section_. 

Balin winks charmingly at Dori before moving to the widely curved staircase that leads up to the open floor above them. Thorin nods to Dori as she turns back to her computer and follows his advisor to what is often deemed as the "Half Level", given its balcony view of the lobby. The Half Level is where the main editors, managers, and overseers are, with Thorin's own office placed so that he may overlook his top employees.

After stepping into his slightly elevated office, Thorin's attention is split between answering the influx of business emails that have accumulated over the weekend and greeting people as they filter onto the floor. Some make straight for the elevators, but the more familiar ones - Ori, Bifur, and Gloin, to name a few - stay on the Half Level. Small greetings are exchanged over the coffee pot, but everyone quickly gets to work; slackers are not allowed at Oak Press.

He gets a call only an hour and a half after arriving, which is unusual. Dori sends it to him with an apology and the words "he insisted". Thorin is then greeted by the voice of Mr. Gandalf Grey.

"I believe our meeting was scheduled for three, Gandalf," Thorin grits out, massaging the bridge of his nose as he feels a headache coming. Dealing with Grey is always a trying experience, and Thorin always attempts to schedule plenty of time to prepare for the irritating - but necessary - printing monopolist.

"Was it? Ah, well. I would not have been able to make our appointment anyway. I'm travelling to Madrid for a few weeks." A very _wealthy_ , _friendly_ printing monopolist, slash sponsor, Thorin reminds himself.

"For work or pleasure?" he manages to get out, chanting _small talk, small talk_ in his head.

"A bit of both. Anyway, I was hoping you would be amenable to..." Gandalf's voice fades as Thorin's eyes catch a newcomer. The phone held mindlessly to his ear, Thorin vaguely registers that his mouth is falling open.

She's...oh.

Honey hair, gently curled and falling around past her shoulders. Fitted beige pants that curve around her gracious hips. A red shirt that emphasizes her...um. And an olive green jacket, unbuttoned, that flares as she walks. A simple black briefcase is held in her left hand as she is greeted by Ori, and Thorin swears he can see her smile from here.

He is not usually one to gawk at women; certainly not as openly as this. Of all things, though, this is not what he was expecting. There is no doubt who this woman is.

"Mr. Durin," an irritated voice breaks through his thoughts, and Thorin suddenly remembers that Gandalf is still on the line.

"Ah, yes, sorry, Mr. Grey.  I managed to drop one of the files on my desk. You were saying?"

Thorin makes an effort to listen to Gandalf's voice as he processes this new development.

His new editor is a woman. An attractive - _very attractive_ \- woman.


	2. Chapter 2

*sigh* so after a lot of internal debate and frustration, I'm sorry to say that I'm discontinuing this fic. I've seen a lot of anti-gender-swap comments and stuff on my tumblr dash recently (especially with fem!bilbo), and it's absolutely ruined my motivation and excitement for this story. I'm really sorry guys - I was looking forward to writing this.

**Author's Note:**

> Goal: to create a complex storywith an amazing plot that is both relevant to the modern world and ties in to canon; excellent character development, detailed backstories, and descriptions; romance that goes beyond "yeah they kissed" because I'm not a very sensual person and writing stuff like that feels very awkward.
> 
> Obstacles: I actually have no plot in mind (besides what the summary says, and that's subject to change), I've never written complex, interwoven stories before, and I'm terrified of leaving out what I think is important.
> 
> Basically, I have a lot of ideas about the characters in this story, and I love office AUs, but beyond that, I'm stuck. Please let me know if you have ideas or, at the very least, if you think there's potential here; otherwise I'll probably drop it for an indefinite amount of time.


End file.
